15 years

So here we are.

Today I celebrated 15 years of marriage to my dear sweet husband.

And it occurs to me that we could be celebrating 15 years and one-half hour were it not for a Hell’s Angels road rally that blocked traffic on First Avenue that morning, with our officiant stuck in traffic as it passed. 

How do I know there was a Hell’s Angels road rally up First Avenue? Because as I anxiously waited for the call to come up from the bridal suite to the 26th floor of the Beekman Tower Hotel and walk down the aisle, I stared out the window at the gray, rainy streets below. Chopper after chopper, hog after hog they came in an endless parade past the United Nations. Not something you see every Sunday while you’re wearing a wedding dress. Of course, in New York City, all bets are off. 

They say it’s good luck when it rains on your wedding day (not irony, Alanis) but I think that people say that just to make you feel better about it raining on your wedding day. Just as they say it’s good luck to get crapped on by a bird. It’s really just to make you feel better about getting crapped on by a bird. I can just imagine the first instance of this occurring:

The fanciest cavewoman in town: “What a beautiful day!”

Her husband: “I love dragging you around on days like today.”

Giant pterodactyl in the sky: “What a huge lunch I had. I think I’ll crap on the fanciest cavewoman in town.”

The fanciest cavewoman in town: “Oh, shit.”

Her husband: “Wife, you have been shat upon. You are ruined. I am going to hit you over the head with this stone now and kill you and find a better cavewoman with no crap on her.”

The fanciest cavewoman in town: “Um... but... hey! Hey!! Didn’t you know it’s good luck when a bird craps on you? I’m not ruined! I’m lucky! You can’t kill me!”

Her husband: “I should have known you were lucky. It rained when I first dragged you into my cave.”

And thus it all began.

Of course, I suppose it was indeed lucky that it rained on my wedding day. Had the sun been out, all those photos against the floor-to-ceiling windows would have been backlit.

I guess the Hell’s Angels were good luck as well. Maybe we’ll get a year for every Harley. 

Yes indeed. Welcome to me.